


Forgiveness. Can You Imagine?

by bearpantaloons



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Lena and Kara are just very sad, Mild Suicidal Ideation, POV Second Person, What else is new, fear not my babies it ends happily, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearpantaloons/pseuds/bearpantaloons
Summary: Takes place after 5x08 - a what if scenario where the kryptonite cannons go off and Lena doesn't stop them in time. Lena and Kara have to navigate through their pain to see if they can forgive each other.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 92
Kudos: 765





	Forgiveness. Can You Imagine?

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a writing experiment, because I wanted to see how writing in second person felt, as I haven't done it much before. I gotta say, it's fun. I understand that some people don't care for it and that's okay! That's what tags are for. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by. Hope you enjoy this 15k word one-shot that I'm javelin-throwing into the void.

You look down at your hands and they’re caked with dried blood. You know it’s hers, but part of your brain wants to convince you that it’s fake, or it’s just paint, but it’s too sticky and thick to be anything but real. Thoughts race through your mind, nothing making any sense, like they’ve all been stuck inside a jar and shaken up.

Here’s what you do know: you very nearly killed Supergirl, or maybe you did kill her. You’re not sure. The chair across the table in the interrogation room has been empty for over an hour and that’s when the clatter of the handcuff chains on the table remind you that you’re attached to it, so you try not to move too much.

It wasn’t intentional. There was supposed to be a failsafe, something to prevent the kryptonite cannons from actually firing, but Hope must have caught on and overrode it somehow without showing what she was up to. The hollow ache in your chest _thump, thump, thumps_ at the thought that you killed your best friend – former best friend? – the fight all feels so meaningless now. Kara lied to you, but the whole thing has become so childish and unnecessary.

Yes, people have lied to you, manipulated you, but it was for their own personal gain. Kara lied to protect you, because she loves you, and you hurt her. A tear falls down your cheek and after trying to swipe it away, the cuff chains are too short and get caught, so you have to move your head closer. The door to the interrogation room opens and J’onn walks in. Through the crack, you can see Alex and she’s fuming, an apt reaction to what happened to her sister.

J’onn sits down across from you and sets a hot cup of coffee down on the table. The acrid bitter taste of cheap coffee isn’t something you really want, but it’ll give you something to focus on. With a sigh, J’onn rubs his forehead and tosses a folder down in front of him and he really looks like he doesn’t want to be here.

“Why?” is all he says. You’re not quite sure which question he’s asking ‘why’ for, because there are so many.

Why did you kidnap Eve? Why did you create Hope? Why did you murder your best friend? It could be all of the above.

Any answer you come up with will sound juvenile, like a petulant child who didn’t get her way and went too far with her revenge. ‘Boohoo, my feelings were hurt and I didn’t know how to channel my anger, so I did the only thing I knew how and built something to hide my pain.’

Staring into the coffee cup, black liquid swirling and steaming inside, you watch a few bubbles pop at the surface and vaguely wonder if it’s poisoned. J’onn taps his fingers on the table impatiently and you look up at his tired eyes and wonder if yours look just as tired. They must. You haven’t slept in over a week, because sleep meant nightmares and nightmares usually meant scenarios like this one. Scenarios where you kill Kara, over and over again, a different way each time.

“Is she—” you cut yourself off. You can’t bring yourself to say the words ‘alive’ or ‘dead’. Because you don’t want to know, honestly. Either way, Kara’s been hurt and it was by your hand and she’ll either be alive and hate you, or you’ll have to watch them bury the Girl of Steel. And either way, you become the villain.

J’onn doesn’t answer. He just pushes the folder across the table, waiting for you to pick it up. Setting the coffee cup aside, you take it, flipping it open. A breath gets caught in your throat when you see what’s inside. They’re photos, photos of Kara. Her face is bloody, bruised, unrecognizable. The medical file says they’ve put her in an induced coma to stop her brain from swelling. They’ve also put her in a sun bed, but it doesn’t seem to be having any effect. There must still be residual kryptonite in her system that’s keeping her from healing.

Without realizing, a sob pushes itself out of your chest and you see a tear fall onto the ink on the paper. Kara’s alive. Your hands are shaking and you can feel the bile rising in your throat. You didn’t kill her – not yet, anyway. There’s still time.

“Can I see her? I can help.”

“Not happening, Lena,” J’onn replies sternly.

“She might _die_ , J’onn—”

“Because of you!” He’s standing up now, hands turned into fists. He could throw you through ten walls if he wanted to, throw you out the window and let you fall to your death. He’s breathing heavily and then sighs. “Just… why? Why did you do it?”

Again, you don’t have a good answer for that question, so that’s what you tell him, but you know it’s not good enough by the way his frown deepens.

“She loves you,” he says. “She only ever wanted to keep you safe, to _keep you_.”

That’s what she told you at the Pulitzer party, that she didn’t want to lose you, so she kept herself hidden. You remember still feeling so hurt about that, like she didn’t trust you to understand and accept her. Would you have? Would you have accepted her as Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El? She would still be Kara, _your_ Kara, wouldn’t she? You guess you’ll never know now.

You beg J’onn to let you see her again, but he just shakes his head. “Even if I wanted to, Alex won’t let you anywhere near her.” Every inch of you wants to scream, to yell, tell him that you’re Kara’s only hope, but you don’t know if that’s true or not, but you want to be. It’s a complicated feeling to want to save the person you nearly killed, to be needed by them. You feel selfish and unworthy. Half-tempted to take a bobby pin out of your hair, it would be easy to unlock your cuffs and charge at J’onn, so he’d be forced to subdue you. You deserve persecution, but you can’t until Kara’s safe. She can’t die.

She can’t.

* * *

You're in a holding cell and wonder if your brother ever sat in the same one, or one like it. You really do feel like a Luthor now, living up to the family name. No one will say how Kara is doing, and most people won’t even look at you, save for Alex. Whenever she’s nearby, she glares. She probably wants to kill you, but the only thing holding her back is Kara, knowing Kara wouldn’t want her to.

Even after everything that’s happened, Kara would still want to save you, but you don’t want her to. You don’t want to be saved. You’re ready to face whatever consequences are coming for you, even if it means drawing your last breath. You’re so tired. The black hole of betrayal has swallowed you completely and you’re tired of swimming against the current. You’ve been swimming against it all your life.

The door to the room slides open and you see Alex walk in. She looks just about as tired as you feel and you’re not sure if you’re about to get beaten to a pulp or shot dead. Instead, Alex just slumps down in a chair and buries her face in her hands, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes. You know it pains her to be there, to be asking this, but she pushes down her anger and her pride, looks you right in the eye, and says, “Kara needs your help.”

* * *

You’re released from your cell and escorted to a medbay deep within the DEO. Kara’s lying on a bed with a light blue sheet draped across her body. She looks so small without the suit on, nothing like the enigmatic Supergirl, or even the Kara Danvers you know. She’s unconscious and the bruises on her face and arms are visible and a deep purple. Her veins are glowing green still and you know you need to figure out a way to flush it out of her system before it’s too late.

J’onn and Alex give you free reign with their technology and you get to work. Hours are spent calculating algorithms and equations, trying to figure out a way to essentially replace all of Kara’s blood with filtered and untainted blood. Sleep eludes you, you barely eat. Brainy makes sure you at least munch on crackers and drink water regularly. Eventually, he sits down to help figure things out, as well, and you’re grateful for it.

After days of trials and frustration building and you not sleeping, you plug something into an equation and run a diagnostic. The results come back with a ninety-nine percent success rate and you blink once, twice. You ask Brainy to look it over, just in case you’re hallucinating, but he scans it and nods.

“You did it,” he says.

* * *

Kara is quickly taken to an operating room with Alex and a couple others and they get started on your treatment of injecting Kara with a special cocktail that will attack the kryptonite within her cells and bloodstream and flush them out. All you can do now is wait, but you’re taken back to your cell.

At least you’re given books to read, so you ask for books on forgiveness, ones where both the protagonist and the antagonist forgive each other. You wonder if Kara will forgive you, because nearly killing her sure feels like you should forgive her, but it’s more complicated than that. You’re still hurt by her actions and haunted by fear, and you need to figure out how the both of you can move on, together.

You don’t hear anything for hours and you’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not. It doesn’t keep you from worrying or biting your nails raw. Your mother always chastised you for that, but she’s not here to scold you anymore. No one is. No one is there to care about anything you do. But, Kara always cared and you took that for granted. The one person who cared whether you lived or died, who was always fighting for you, always believed in you, was your latest victim in your battle for revenge as you sat in your lab, plotting away.

It made sense in your head, taking away people’s ability to lie, cheat, and hurt one another. No one would ever have to feel the way you’ve felt your entire life. But after everything that’s happened, was it worth it? Was losing the only family you have left, the family who loved you regardless of your name or title or your past, worth it in the end?

You can’t concentrate anymore, so you throw the book in front of you and it bounces off the invisible wall. You’re more alone than you’ve ever felt. Before, you could at least call on Supergirl and she’d come running. Now, if you used the watch, who would come?

Someone finally walks into the room and you’re relieved to see that it’s Kelly. The two of you always got along at game nights and whatever other gatherings you felt obligated to go to.

As she approaches, you stand and give her a hopeful look, silently begging her to give some good news. She purses her lips and sighs, not meeting your eyes and your stomach sinks.

“Kelly, please,” you beg, “just tell me.”

“She made it through surgery, but she’s still asleep. That’s all I’ve been given clearance to tell you.”

“Is she going to be okay?” you ask, hating that your voice sounds so pitiful.

“I’m sorry, Lena. That’s all I can tell you.” She turns to leave and you want to yell and protest, but you know it won’t do any good. They’re keeping you in the dark on purpose, either because they still don’t trust you, or because it’s their form of torture – you not knowing if you killed Kara. You can’t say you don’t deserve it, because you absolutely do, and the DEO was never one to show leniency, especially when it came to their assets.

But even so, this was cruel even for them. For years, you spent cultivating professional relationships with them, helping them in any way you could, with whatever they asked. Devices were built with L-Corp technology to fend off violent aliens, things like the lead dispersal device that ran the Daxamites off the planet – something that you’d admit was somewhat selfish, seeing how Rhea used you and Mon-El was something of a nuisance when it came to Kara. Kara deserved better and he was only holding her back, keeping her from her full potential. It feels like all of that was for nothing. No matter what you do, how much you try to prove yourself, you’re just a Luthor to them, someone bound to turn on a whim, and you proved them right with Hope and Non Nocere.

You conclude that the only control that you currently have is what goes into your body, so you stop eating the food they give you, stop drinking the water they provide. Whenever Nia takes the trays full of food away, she gives you a sad look as she’s watching you wither away and Brainy watches from the doorway with the same look on his face. You’re surprised they haven’t tried to force fluids into you yet, but if the DEO wanted to get rid of you, this isn’t really their usual method. The DEO’s way of dealing with things tends to be more along the lines of pointing a claymore satellite right at your head.

Lying down is all you have the strength to do, but you hear the door slide open and the sound of boots hitting the ground, vibrating the floor beneath you. When you look up, you see Alex’s face, full of frustration as she looks down at you.

“You need to stop this, Lena,” she says.

“Let me see her,” you reply weakly. They still haven’t given you a proper update on Kara, whether she’s awake or not, whether she has permanent damage from the kryptonite, or if she even knows that Lena is there.

“What makes you think she wants to see you?” Alex bites back. Part of you wants to say _because it’s Kara_ , but maybe Alex is right. Maybe you went too far this time and Kara’s finally given up on you. And if that’s true, then you are truly alone.

* * *

Eventually, you end your hunger strike, seeing how the DEO doesn’t appear to be budging much. They compromise somewhat and at least give you a status update on Kara’s health. She’s recovering, spending at least an hour a day under the sun beds, still hasn’t come to see you, which isn’t completely surprising. They’ve started letting Nia come sit and talk to you some days, with Brainy keeping watch. She keeps you updated on the happenings around the world – who’s dating whom, what new menu items Big Belly Burger has gotten, the important things.

During a conversation about one of Nia’s articles where Andrea has her following a story on an attack on a freighter while Kara’s been on ‘medical leave,’ the door to the room slides open. You feel your breath catch in your chest when you see Kara walk through them and she isn’t wearing her suit. She’s in black DEO training wear and her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. She looks thinner and tired, but she’s alive.

Kara whispers something to Nia, who nods and gives you a tiny wave as she stands up and heads to the door. She sits down in the chair with some difficulty, her eyes not meeting yours and instead trying to find something else to focus on. Neither of you say anything and the silence is so loud.

Finally, Kara takes a deep, sobering breath and looks in your eyes. It’s a look that you won’t forget for quite some time, a look of pain and immense sadness.

“How long have they had you in here?” she asks.

Honestly, you’re not even sure. There’s no calendar inside and they didn’t let you keep a phone, so you shrug. “I lost count. I guess as long as you’ve been here.” Kara looks taken aback and almost angry.

“You’ve been here a month,” she says quietly. It sounds right. There’s a stack of at least twenty books that they’ve allowed you to read in your cell and you’ve gone through one menstrual cycle. Kara’s gone quiet again and she’s shaking her head. You wonder why she’s here. If it was to ask why you did what you did, you’d expect there to be more yelling, more _anything_. Instead, she’s just sitting there. The silence is painful and deafening, so you crash right through it.

“How are you feeling?”

Her eyes whip up and her brow furrows. You wonder if this will be the start of the yelling, but she just sighs again. “Sore. Tired. Feel like I got pumped full of kryptonite.” With a wince, you nod, knowing full well that you deserve that, but you’re not sure if Kara meant it that way. Awkward silence befalls the two of you again, but Kara wrings her hands together nervously and asks how you’ve been.

“Oh, you know, being held inside of a cell like the criminal I am for trying to kill you. Tried to hunger strike, but failed at that, as well.” The sarcasm comes naturally, it’s a defense mechanism, but Kara sees through it. She always has.

“Why did you do it? Tell me the truth,” Kara says, gripping her hands around her knees as if she’s preparing herself for the answer.

“I didn’t mean to,” you barely whisper, but know Kara can hear.

“The fact that you even had the kryptonite cannons armed says a whole lot.” Kara leans back and crosses her arms over her chest.

“That was Hope. I never wanted to physically harm you, I just wanted to scare you. I-I didn’t want to hurt anymore.”

“Did it work?” Kara asks, looking you dead in the eye. “Did it stop you from hurting?”

The pain in your chest rises, the one you feel when you’re trying not to cry. You breathe through your nose, trying to calm yourself, but your lower lip quivers against your will and it’s only a matter of time before a tear pushes itself through and it falls down your cheek.

“You know,” Kara chuckles humorlessly, “I’ve spent the past three years fighting for you, trying to clear your name, telling people you aren’t like your family, trying to convince _you_ that you aren’t. And I did this one thing – yes, I lied and it was wrong – but it broke you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life apologizing for it, but for that lie to cause you to spiral like this, to want to kill me, I just—how am I supposed to feel about that?”

“I told you I didn’t want to hurt you—”

“But you did!” Kara screams, her face contorted in anguish, the chair falling over after being pushed back as she stands to her feet. “You _did_ ,” she says quieter. “Regardless if you meant to or not, those cannons were armed and pointed at me when you knew that they could potentially kill me. Whether or not Hope was behind the controls doesn’t matter, because they were there. And Hope was your creation. I find it kind of ironic that your plan is called ‘do no harm’ when all it seems to do is harm people.”

She’s right, your idea got away from you. It was intended for good, but you lost sight of who and what mattered because of your own pain. You became blinded by it and you became someone you’re not, someone you swore you’d never be.

The constant silence must get to Kara, because she turns her back on you and starts heading for the door. You panic and yell, “Supergirl!” because she’s leaving, leaving you. She doesn’t stir, doesn’t react, just keeps walking. If she walks out that door, you’ll lose her forever, so you say the name of the person who’s been dead to you for the past six months. You say her name. You say _Kara_.

She stops, but she doesn’t turn around, and you see her shoulders shaking. It’s so quiet in the room, the only noise coming from your labored breaths and you don’t know if you should say something or wait for Kara to. The answer to your question comes when Kara turns around. Tear track marks run down her cheeks and her eyes are red. You did that to her, put the pain behind her eyes. You became the betrayer.

“I need some time, Lena. I’ll talk to J’onn and Alex about releasing you on house arrest.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving a _whoosh_ of air behind.

* * *

Kara must have said something, because the next day, J’onn and Alex are preparing for your release, having you sign paperwork, fitting you with a GPS device. Of course, they know you could easily tamper with it, reprogram it, but they’re putting their faith in you, trying to make you prove that you’re trustworthy again.

Alex takes you home, says not to contact Kara, that they’ll be monitoring your location every hour of the day. Everything in the apartment looks the same, smells the same, but everything feels different. It _is_ different. A bottle of your father’s favorite scotch sits on the counter, calling out like a siren song, a beacon homing in on your vulnerability. You pour yourself a drink and carry the glass through one of the hallways that lead to your home office. The DEO confiscated a lot of your things, your tech and schematics, all the things related to Hope. Hope herself had been taken by the DEO and you’re not sure where she ended up.

She wasn’t your friend, she made that clear. She lived to serve, she was built, created. And yet, you never even noticed that your creation was on the verge of taking over the entire plan, because she thought she was doing what you created her to do, even if that meant killing anyone who stood in your way.

Non nocere. Do no harm.

The glass of scotch feels heavy, like a dead weight that will only cause you to sink further into yourself, into your despair. Everything in the apartment echoes, signifying just how empty it really is. Turning on the TV just to have some noise proves to be a terrible idea, because every news and media outlet is either talking about you or Supergirl. Seeing your face staring back makes you sick. The dead weight in your hand becomes lighter as you throw the glass full of amber liquid at the screen and they both shatter, glass and alcohol splattering all over your floor. You sigh and walk to your kitchen to find paper towels and a dustpan to start cleaning up, chastising yourself for being such a child.

As you’re wiping everything up, your finger catches on a shard of glass and you hiss as blood begins to pool at the tip. You wonder what it would feel like if it all drained out all at once. Dabbing with a paper towel, you watch the drop of blood spread across it the same way a ripple would spread across a body of water.

In your inquisitive haze, you don’t notice the figure standing on your balcony until you look up. Kara’s standing there looking about as exhausted as you feel, but you stand and walk over to unlock the door. She lets herself in, her cape flowing behind her, as she looks around and takes stock of the area.

“Did the TV say something mean?” she asks, pointing to it. You know her defense mechanism is humor, so you don’t roll your eyes, even though you want to.

“Something like that,” you reply. The paper towel is still wrapped around your finger and you’re applying pressure to it by balling your hand into a fist.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“It’s just a small cut, I’ll live,” comes the reply that you immediately regret. Kara walks into the kitchen and opens a cupboard where the band-aids are. The fact she knows exactly where it is makes your heart ache. Pulling one out, she holds out her hand for you to lay yours in, which you do, and she applies the band aid, wrapping it around the cut and smoothing it down along the tip. You whisper a _thanks_ and take a step back.

You want to ask her what she’s doing here, because the last time you saw each other, she said she needed time. She looks so lost, like maybe she’s not even sure why she’s here.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask awkwardly, trying to cut through the quiet that seems to have become commonplace between you both. She nods and asks for water. You walk over to the fridge and pull out a pitcher, pouring a glass and handing it to her. She takes it and sits down at the breakfast bar, turning the glass between her hands, but not drinking out of it.

“I don’t exactly know what to do here,” she says. “I’ve never had to do… this. Most things are cut and dry, I usually know who my enemies are.”

That sentence cuts deep. Never, in any scenario you plotted or mapped out, did you ever think Kara would call you her enemy. “Is that what you think I am?” you ask.

“Aren’t you? We certainly aren’t friends anymore. You made sure I knew that with every interaction we’ve had.” She has a point. You kept her at arm’s length, kept everyone else there, too, because it meant less chance of being hurt again. “Listen,” she sighs. “I told you that I wouldn’t give up on you and I won’t, but you have to want help. I can’t keep running into the same wall over and over again, waiting for you to let me in.”

“I never asked for your help,” you spit back at her. “I just wanted to be left alone.”

“So you could kill yourself instead?” Kara exclaims, her hand squeezing around the glass tight enough to crack it. Your brow furrows and the words get stuck in your throat. The absurdity of Kara’s statement almost makes you want to laugh. You’re not suicidal, far from it. Staying alive is what you’ve been fighting for since you were four years old. “I don’t mean in the literal sense,” she adds, seemingly reading your mind. “I meant killing who you are, everything you’ve ever stood for. The _goodness_ inside of you. Kidnapping Eve and Malefic, building Hope, wanting to brainwash the entire population, that’s not you.

”I know that my secret made you think that you could no longer trust anyone, that our friendship was built on a lie, but it wasn’t. My friendship with you was the truest thing in my life, because that was when I felt like the realest part of myself. I wasn’t what the public saw as Supergirl or the orphan from Krypton. With you, I was Kara – just Kara. And I know that I may not deserve your forgiveness and that we have a lot of work to do if we ever want to move past this, but I realize that my secret being exposed is the chain reaction that set everything off and led you to where you are now, even you standing behind the controls of those kryptonite cannons. So, accident or not, I want to move past this, because I’m still alive and I believe you’re still you.”

Your body is shaking and you’re pressing your lips together so tightly to keep the sobs in; Kara’s crying, too. You want to reach out and pull her to you, feel her warmth against your body and, god, you’ve missed her hugs, but you can’t. You know you can’t be the first, that you both have to earn each other’s trust again, and it’s going to be a long and hard process.

* * *

With your spare time, you come up with a four-phase guide to forgiveness and healing. The first phase is to have casual meet-ups that don’t last too long, keeping things light, and getting used to being in each other’s company again. The two of you start slow, Kara brings you lunch at your apartment and you talk about mundane things before she has to leave. Some days, she comes in with a frown on her face and you know those are the days that she’s had an argument with Alex, most likely about you. She never says so, though, tries to cover it with a smile that isn’t as bright as it usually is.

Phase two is spending a little more time together, watching an episode or two of a show, or perhaps a movie, along with a meal. Kara had brought over a new TV and set it up, installed all the necessary apps and everything. You sit on opposite sides of the couch, leaving an ocean of space between, but that’s what’s comfortable, even if it does feel like an awkward first date. You don’t ask her about her friends or Alex and she doesn’t ask you about your mother or Lex.

The first two phases last for about a month and a half, and moving onto the third phase is going to take a lot more mental preparation, because you’re going to start asking her questions about being Supergirl. You’re going to introduce her alter-ego into the conversations, acknowledge that she exists. Kara’s supposed to come by later that evening and after you’ve had groceries delivered, you look up the recipe you found earlier in the day and start to prepare the ingredients. At about half past six, you check your phone again, because Kara’s late and she’s never been late before. There aren’t any missed phone calls or texts, the news isn’t reporting on any major stories involving Supergirl, so you aren’t sure what’s going on.

A feeling in the pit of your stomach makes you wonder if Kara bailed on you, not being ready for this conversation, or maybe she’s hurt. After sending a text and not receiving a reply after another half hour, you try calling and it goes straight to voicemail. In a blind panic, you call Alex next and she answers gruffly. You ask if she’s heard from Kara and she says that Kara left her apartment hours ago, saying she was on her way to your place. After telling her that Kara never made it there, she tells you to sit tight, but you’re tired of waiting. You open the door to your apartment, knowing the second you step outside of it, someone from the DEO will be alerted. Thankfully, they forewent the bulky ankle monitor and instead used a waterproof armband. As you’re about to step over the threshold, the elevator dings and Kara walks out. She sees you and speeds over, putting her hands on your arms and gently pushing you back inside.

“What are you doing?” she asks in a scalding and condescending tone.

“You didn’t answer your phone and Alex said she hadn’t seen you.”

“So, what, you were going to just waltz outside and go looking for me? The DEO would have locked you back up. Where would you have even gone?”

“I don’t know, Kara! I was worried,” you yell, frustrated at her for acting like you were just going out for a leisurely stroll.

She sighs and hangs her head to her chest. “I’m sorry, I should have contacted you. My phone died while I was out and I didn’t have time to charge it.” It’s now that you realize that she’s holding two armfuls of bags, filled with… you don’t know what, so you point them out. She looks down at them. “Oh! This is what I was picking up.” After walking inside, she sets the bags down on the kitchen counter and starts taking everything out, one-by-one. There are desserts, popcorn, a bottle of your favorite wine that you can only get in Italy.

“Kara, did you fly to Europe?” you ask incredulously.

Kara’s cheeks turn a little pink and she nods. “It’s the beginning of Phase Three, I wanted to celebrate. Oh, look! I got this, too. I know it’s a little soon, seeing how we’re just starting the third phase, but it looked comfy.” She holds up a Supergirl hoodie that’s basically her suit on the front and the back is red like her cape. “You don’t have to wear it, I just thought it looked neat. Was that okay? You can tell me if it’s too much.”

You take it from her and walk into your bedroom, changing your clothes and throwing the hoodie on. Kara was right, it is comfy. After walking back out, Kara is still taking things out of her bags and putting them away.

“I saw the vegetables out, so I chopped them for you. I hope you don’t mind,” she says. It must have taken her ten seconds to chop them, because you weren’t gone that long. It’s hard for you to compartmentalize the idea that Kara is Supergirl when she’s still dressed like Kara and talks like her, but she still clearly has powers and uses them on a regular basis. Kara notices your hesitation and wrings her fingers. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first. Crap, I messed things up. Should we go back to Phase Two?”

You don’t say anything, taking a step forward into Kara’s space and she holds in a breath. Reaching up, you slide her glasses off her nose and remove them completely, staring at every feature of her face – her eyes, the tiny scar above her brow, the crinkle in her forehead, the little pout of her lips. You feel your heart start to beat faster when you stare at her lips as they part.

“Lena?” Kara breathes out.

Blinking a few times, you hand Kara back her glasses. “S-sorry, I was having a hard time seeing you as Kara and you as Supergirl.”

“They’re both me,” she says quietly.

“I know,” you reply with a smile. “Help me finish cooking?” Kara nods enthusiastically and you throw everything into a pot to start sautéing and Kara keeps chopping and being a very good sous chef. Things start feeling like they’re getting back on track. Phase Three also consists of Kara falling asleep on your couch when she can’t keep her eyes open during the Disney movies she’s making you watch. You always know the second she falls asleep, because the singing comes to a halt. The soft, purple blanket becomes Kara’s blanket and you drape it across her before heading to your room. You hear Kara stir and she calls out your name.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” you say to her.

“’kay,” Kara mumbles and then immediately starts snoring again. You smile once more before walking into your room and closing the door behind you. After going through your nightly routine, you lay in bed and close your eyes to sleep, but thoughts race through your mind for no reason at all.

Things are good, they’re back on track – at least, you think they are. Kara’s told you all about Krypton and her family. Everything was public knowledge or in Lex’s archives, of course, but hearing it straight from Kara is different. It’s more personal than reading a profile that someone else wrote up. You knew Kara had lost a lot, but didn’t know the amount it still weighed on her, how she’s still so afraid of losing people, people like you. It makes you feel terrible, that one of the reasons she kept the secret in the first place is because she didn’t want to lose her best friend. In the same vein, you didn’t want to lose her, either, so you pushed her away before you could. Leave them before they can leave you. It didn’t quite work out that way.

* * *

“So, when you confronted me about the synthetic kryptonite, you weren’t necessarily angry that I made it, you were angry that I had it in my possession in the first place, knowing it could kill you.”

Kara nods. “It felt like you didn’t trust me and having it, even if you never used it, just showed you wouldn’t trust me as long as it existed.”

“And when you said you flew on a bus that one time—”

“I literally flew. In the air.”

“And all those times I thought I was protecting you, you could have sneezed on the bad guys and they’d fall over.”

“Um, that actually did happen once.” You raise a questioning eyebrow. “I sneezed knocked over the bad guys.”

You laugh and shake your head. It’s been Phase Three for about a month, and Kara’s been staying over more often. She’s been invited onto the bed, since it’s big enough for the both of you with plenty of room in between, but she politely declines every time. She’s been given her own drawer for pajamas, or other clothes, and you don’t realize how strange that is until Nia mentions it to you. That’s another thing, Kara’s friends are your friends again and you all hang out at your apartment together and sometimes Alex even shows up. Game nights are back on, Kara’s still your partner, you still kick everyone’s asses - together.

Phase Three seems to drag on for quite a while, which is fine, because you’re definitely not ready for Phase Four yet. Eventually, you’re allowed outside of your apartment, but only to go to work and back home. Any new projects are to go through the DEO first, which you think is ridiculous, and everything is monitored. Kara buys you a small Supergirl action figure as a joke, but you keep it on your desk at L-Corp. It’s her in her flight position, one arm outstretched in front of her and the opposite knee tucked under, on a metal stand. It reminds you of all the times Kara’s saved you as Supergirl and you laugh about it, because it was all so obvious if you’d just paid attention.

There’s a knock on your office door, and you check the camera before smiling and unlocking it from your desk. Kara walks in brightly with two paper bags in her hands. “Lunch time!”

“You know you don’t need to take time out of your day to bring me food,” you say, hoping she doesn’t see right through it and notice how excited you are to see her.

“I know,” she replies, “but I wanted to hang out. Hey, it’s me!” she says as she walks over to your desk and checks out the action figure. You suddenly realize that you still have the broken picture frame on your desk, because you hadn’t had time to switch it out. Kara picks it up and traces her hand over the broken glass. “This was a fun night,” she says.

“Yeah,” you respond quietly. It was a game night, or maybe a holiday, but you just remember feeling warm the entire time. Everyone was laughing and having fun, throwing jabs at one another, and Kara always made sure to sit next to you and make sure you were doing okay. It was also the night where you realized you were in love with your best friend and the panic attack that ensued later after you’d gone home.

Telling Kara was out of the question, because if she didn’t feel the same way, you know things wouldn’t change, but they _would_ be different. How could you possibly act the same around someone who didn’t want you? So, you buried it deep, threw it in one of your boxes and dug a hole, packing it away into the deepest darkest recesses of your heart behind the arteries and valves.

Of course, you’d never admit that the reason why you felt so hurt and betrayed by Kara was because the person you loved lied to your face for years. It proved your mother and Lex right, that a Kryptonian couldn’t be trusted, that a murderous family was at least truthful to your face, and a friendship with an alien would only end in pain. But this isn’t where your story ends. It doesn’t have to end the way that your family has written it out. You’re the author, you decide how it resolves.

The crinkle of the fast food bags startles you to attention as Kara pulls out your usual order and hands you a burger and fries (with a diet soda). The temptation to add a drop of rum or scotch into it is high, but you’ve been trying to drink less since you and Kara have started repairing your friendship. The last thing you need is the embarrassment of drunkenly texting a friend about how you’ve been in love with her for years and just want her to love you back.

So, that’s how things go for a while. Your routine is almost back to normal, considering you used to spend anywhere from sixteen to twenty hours at work before, but the DEO has you on a curfew, so it forces you to have a somewhat normal schedule. Kara comes over almost every night when she doesn’t have any outstanding Supergirl duties to attend to and she stays over more often than not.

One day, though, in the middle of Megara singing ‘I Won’t Say (I’m in Love)’ from Hercules, Kara asks a seemingly innocent question.

“So, what exactly is Phase Four? The document you e-mailed me just said ‘Profit.’”

You take a sobering breath and look down at your hands that are gripping the hem of your shirt hard enough to leave your knuckles white. “Phase Four is where I ask for forgiveness.”

Kara gives you a strange look and tilts her head to the side. “But I’ve already forgiven you.”

“Not for everything, and you’re not the only one who needs to forgive me. I’ve done horrible things to Eve, to Malefic, Andrea.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. They still have Hope in the DEO and aren’t sure what to do with her. They said they found something that can bring Eve back.”

If that’s true, maybe the chance you’ve been waiting for. You can reroute Eve’s consciousness back into her body. She doesn’t have to forgive you, but you can at least make this one thing right. Somehow, Kara convinces Alex to let you back into the DEO. The Hope hub that was sitting dormant in a back room gathering dust now sits on a lab bench and Hope is lying on a gurney. You type away at a computer under Alex’s watchful eye and run the program, mentally crossing your fingers.

Hope looks up at you with glossy eyes. “It was a pleasure working with you, Miss Luthor. I am sorry things had to end this way.”

And with that, you dismantle your creation, the thing that was built to help you achieve your goals and ended up bringing out the worst in you, enabling you and your ideas of grandeur. The Hope AI is slowly pushed out and Eve’s consciousness is brought back, so all there is to do is wait.

Eve’s eyes blink open and her vision focuses. When they move to your eyes, her face contorts into fear and then anger. She rolls off of gurney and grabs a scalpel from one of the trays, swinging wildly and lunges for you. Kara steps in between and the tip of the scalpel breaks off on her chest.

“Eve, please remain calm,” she says placatingly.

“Calm? _Calm?_ Do you even know what she’s done?”

You roll your eyes. “Compared to what you’ve done with Lex and also with Leviathan, you’re not much better.”

Eve huffs and glares at you. Taking a step forward and standing next to Kara, you tell her you don’t expect her to forgive you, but by giving her back her body, hopefully that’s a good start. Eve is held at the DEO for questioning, so they can try to figure out who Leviathan are and what they want while Kara takes you home.

She lands on your balcony and you unlock the door, but she hangs back and doesn’t follow.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“Actually, I should probably go,” she points her thumb behind her. “I have an article due for Andrea tomorrow and I’m not even halfway done.” This is what you were waiting for, Kara was reminded of the horrible things you did, how Eve may have deserved punishment, but not to the extent of losing her autonomy, and especially not by your hand. This is Kara leaving, you know it. It’s happened so many times before. They distance themselves gradually, come up with weak excuses, then soon enough, you’re alone again.

It was only a matter of time.

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, because what else is there to say? Begging would look pathetic, apathy would look cruel. Kara comes forward and wraps you in a hug, and if it’s the last hug you two share, at least it’s a good one.

“I’ll see you later,” she whispers and gives one more squeeze before walking back to the balcony and taking off. The fact that she didn’t say when she would see you next doesn’t get past you. The walls start to rebuild themselves, brick by brick, the boxes get packed away. You walk to the kitchen and your hand shakily grabs a bottle of wine from the counter, uncorking it, and not even bothering with a glass.

Some amount of time passes and you lose track around halfway through the second bottle of wine. You stumble through your house and everything is blurry, so you don’t see the corner of the table in your way as you run your hip right into it. Tumbling to the floor, the bottle of wine falls from your grasp and spills everywhere. A loud _fuck!_ comes from your mouth as the wine seeps into the rug, as well as your clothes, and you’re too drunk to even stand. The wooden floor feels cool against your skin as you lay your head down on it, getting wine everywhere. You don’t hear the door to your balcony opening, but the draft is noticeable.

“Lena? What happened?” Kara asks as she kneels beside you.

“Wine spilled,” you reply, words slurred. “I thought you left.”

“I did, but then I heard you yell, so I came back.” She helps you sit up and removes your heels for easier maneuverability. “Do you want to take a shower while I clean up?” You nod a reply and Kara walks toward the bathroom and takes a soft towel off the shelf. She shuts the door to give you some privacy and the door to the broom closet opens, so she must be getting the mop. Slowly and carefully, you begin to peel off your damp clothes, now ruined by the wine stains and throw them into the corner of the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, your reflection is of a stranger’s face – eyes sunken, skin paler than usual. What does Kara even see in you? Why does she keep putting in all this effort to stay in your life? Maybe she should leave, get away from the mess that is you.

Climbing underneath the hot spray of water, your bones and muscles relax, but you feel a tightness in your chest that becomes a hiccupping sob. Even if you cover your mouth, it won’t matter, because Kara can hear everything. Thankfully, she doesn’t come to check on you, so you slide down to the tub and tuck your knees into your body and let yourself cry. You don’t even really understand the reason why you’re crying, if it’s just because your body is tired or because you’re realizing that your unrequited love is going to stay that way, because no one in their right mind would ever be able to love you. Everything you touch becomes tainted and you can’t do that to Kara.

The water continues falling and it begins to feel colder when there’s a knock on the door and Kara calls out your name, asking if everything’s okay. When you don’t answer, Kara cracks the door open and probably sees you curled up on the shower floor, shivering, so she grabs the towel and wraps it around you after shutting off the shower. She guides you to your room and pulls out a pair of comfy pajama bottoms and the Supergirl hoodie, dressing you and the pink tint on her ears doesn’t go unnoticed. She has you lie back on the bed and throws the covers over you, sitting on the edge and letting her hand rest on your thigh.

“I thought you were leaving me,” you choke out a sob. “That you weren’t going to come back this time.”

Kara tilts her head and looks at you with a softness that you’ve only seen once before, when you’d told her about Lillian throwing away your stuffed bear the first day you arrived at the Luthor estate. It’s the look she gives when someone’s vulnerable around her, when they need protection and validation, things you hate admitting that you need.

“I think by now I’ve shown that I’m not going anywhere,” she smiles. “It did kind of freak me out when I saw Eve coming back into her body and that it was you who did that to her, but really, none of that would have happened if I hadn’t lied.”

“You can’t put that on yourself. My actions were my own and I made the decision to go through with them. Your guilt shouldn’t be tied to mine and I think we both need to figure out how to move past it and forgive ourselves.”

Kara nods. “How do we do that?”

“Fuck if I know,” you bark a watery laugh. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be so miserable.”

“One step at a time, I guess,” Kara stands up. “I should probably head home and let you get some sleep.” There’s another tug in your chest, a wave of panic, an irrational fear that tells you if you let Kara leave, she won’t come back, even if she says she will.

So, you ask her to stay. And, because it’s Kara, of course she does.

The dynamic has shifted. Now, when Kara stays over, she sleeps in the bed next to you and not on the couch like before. She lets you cuddle up next to her and sometimes she wraps her arms around you. There’s more physical contact on a daily basis and a lot more nervous smiles, so you think to yourself that maybe she does feel the same way. But fear paralyzes, it lies, it freezes those walls around your heart and makes them so thick that not even Supergirl can break through them. You’re still you and you’re still the woman who nearly killed the hero of National City.

* * *

The thing about forgiveness is that it can either be an incredibly long or an incredibly slow process. It can be done in an instant and things can go back to normal, or the past can keep bubbling up, send reminders of betrayal and hurt feelings, extending the forgiveness window into something unattainable until those other feelings fall away. The ebb and flow, the push and pull of this type of personal and internal introspection is something you’re not totally familiar with. You understand _your own_ feelings, more or less, but you also need to move along with Kara, as well, so she stops blaming herself for whatever it is you became. This is the first time you’ve had to do this with someone else. Other times, you could just drink away the bad thoughts until they became a dull ache that never quite went away, but were easy enough to ignore.

So, the question is, how do you forgive someone you’re in love with, knowing that you’ve truly forgiven them and haven’t done it just _because_ you love them? How will you know that you’re okay with Kara being Supergirl, okay with the fact that she lied to you for over three years, and it won’t come back to blow up in your face the next time you discover a lie? Will there be another lie? You can’t be sure you can trust Kara to be one hundred percent honest from here on out, because no one is, and it’s unfair to expect that from her and wait until it happens again, so you can catch her.

The obvious conclusion is to stay away from Kara, see if you can exist away from her and not become angry again, not allow yourself to become so absorbed in your pain that you go back to the broken woman who lashed out at the only person who cares. You know you’re running away, that leaving before Kara leaves you is a defense mechanism, but it also makes sense in your head and nothing else seems to be working.

A flight to Metropolis is booked and you tell Kara not to come see you or try to contact you. When she’s told this, she’s confused and hurt, but she understands. She has to let you do this, to let you heal on your own terms. At check-in, you look around, expecting to see Kara there to see you off, but she’s not there and part of you is relieved. You don’t do goodbyes and you really don’t do teary goodbyes. Finding your first-class seat, a stewardess approaches and asks if you want a drink. You order a red wine that comes in a tiny bottle and she comes back with it, setting down a napkin and a small packet of pretzels. Twisting the top off, you drink half of it in one gulp and your eyes scan across to the window. A figure floats in the sky with recognizable red and blue in the distance. She waves as the plane takes off and all you can do is close your eyes and hope the next time they open is when the plane is in Metropolis.

Renting a penthouse suite in a nearby hotel isn’t the most glamorous way to live, but when you don’t know how long you’ll be staying there, it’s essentially a rent-controlled apartment. Most of your day is spent working, visiting the parent company in downtown Metropolis under the guise that you’re there to oversee a new project and speak with overseas investors. Things go fairly smoothly, even your mother doesn’t question the move across the country. Kara doesn’t call or show up unexpectedly, but you do keep tabs on her through the news. She just received an award from the local law enforcement for saving an armored vehicle that was transporting a dangerous alien.

She looks good, healthy, but not sure about happy. The face she puts on in front of the general public is not the same one she has around family and friends. That’s what makes her so difficult to read, because she has the experience of being different people at the same time, but you have to believe that when she’s been with you, that had to have been real and not a façade.

Several months pass and a new routine has been put in place. You pick up a boxing class, because that’s an hour that you don’t think of Kara and you can finally beat something else up other than yourself. Nia checks in once a week, give you updates on who won the last game night, but she tiptoes around subjects that involve Kara. She doesn’t ever say her name, but you know when stories are about her.

There’s a news alert that pops up on your phone and your heart sinks when you open it. Kara was found in Metropolis after there was a bomb scare near L-Corp, but this is the first you’ve heard of it. Grabbing your purse, you race to your private elevator and call your driver on the way. He takes you to the Metropolis branch of the DEO and you demand to see Supergirl. Most of the agents deny you access, but when you come up with a bogus reason for a lawsuit, their eyes widen and have you wait in one of the meeting rooms.

About a half hour later, Alex walks in and she has her usual glower on her face, but her eyes hold a deep concern.

“How is she?” you ask.

Alex sighs and takes a seat, folding her hands in front of her. “She got hurt pretty badly, blew out her powers, but she’s okay. Nothing nearly as bad as the kryptonite cannons.” You wince at the reminder, but there’s no bite to Alex’s voice. It’s just an observation, not an accusation or placing of blame. You ask if you can see her and that’s when Alex’s gaze turns fiery. “You disappear on her for months and now you want to see her? What is your deal, Luthor?”

Even if you deserve this ire, Alex only knows Kara’s side. She doesn’t know that you’ve been in love with her sister for years, that every time you saw her looking at someone else, the entire time she was dating Mon-El, every platonic hug you shared meant one more needle being stabbed into your heart. Dating James was supposed to take your mind off things, but it just made it worse and made you feel more alone. You thought you were alone then, but it was nothing compared to the loneliness you felt when you lost all of your friends overnight.

Alex leaves for a minute and then comes back, telling you to follow her. She tells you Kara’s awake and threatened to partner her up with Brainy during Pictionary at the next game night if she didn’t let Lena come see her. The last time Brainy played Pictionary, all he drew were pictures of himself with Nia, reciting poetry.

Kara’s room is bright with bouquets of flowers all over. She’s sitting up in the bed and eating off of a tray of food. She looks up and sees you, fumbling with her spoon and dropping it, muttering a quiet _shoot_ , but smiles again.

You’re nervous and you don’t know why. Seeing Kara in a hospital gown again makes you feel uneasy even if this time isn’t your fault. It brings up old, tired emotions that you thought had gotten hugged away, but it’ll never get easier seeing Kara hurt.

You sit down in a chair that’s pulled up next to the bed and Kara holds her hand out, palm up, and you slide yours on top. She squeezes it and keeps smiling, acting like you haven’t been absent for the past four months.

“I missed you,” she says sincerely. “Kinda wish I didn’t have to blow out my powers to see you, but I get it. I know you’re just trying to move on and I wasn’t helping.”

“It had nothing to do with you, Kara. Quit blaming yourself,” you reply. If Kara can’t get out of her loop of self-flagellation and self-blame, how are you expected to? “I just needed time away.”

“Did it help?”

You look at her and smile ruefully. “No.”

“Come back home,” Kara pleads. “I can-I can still keep my distance if that’s what you want, but I like knowing you’re around. It’s comforting for me.”

You agree, but you tell yourself it’s only so you can help take care of Kara, completely ignoring the fact that she has Alex and Eliza and all of her friends to do just that. Having the DEO transfer Kara to your apartment is easier than you thought. No one gives any pushback, which is surprising, and they’ve actually been mostly agreeable. Working from home becomes your norm and you only go into the office when you can’t have a video conference. In between meetings, you’re fluffing Kara’s pillows, making sure she doesn’t sit in the same position too long, making sure she’s fed, walking her to the bathroom, moving her to the couch, moving her to the kitchen.

She teases you about your bedside manner needing some work and you playfully slap her shoulder and laugh. This is comfortable, almost feels back to where it was before you left, before you had your meltdown. You watch movies together, cuddled up on the couch and whenever Kara makes a grunting noise, you check on her out of the corner of your eye. She’s trying not to move, because you’re leaning into her and she doesn’t want to disturb you, so you know she’s getting stiff.

“Come on,” you say, sitting up and lying back on the couch and extending an arm for her to slot into. She leans in and rests her head on your chest while the movie continues playing and soon after you hear her snoring away. You can’t help it, you feel compelled to do it, even though you know it’s a stupid and terrible idea, but you do it anyway. A gentle kiss is placed on her forehead and she groans a little before smiling and curling further into you.

“Love you,” she murmurs and you know she doesn’t mean it the way you want it to, but you can pretend. You say it back and fall asleep beside her.

* * *

It takes Kara few more days to recover, but soon she’s back on her feet and ready to resume her Supergirl duties. While you’re disappointed that she won’t need you anymore and will probably go back to her own apartment, at least she’s okay.

She continues coming by with lunch on most days, even if you’re too busy to eat and end up talking on the phone the whole time or signing off on approval notices in between bites of your burger, but she just sits on the couch patiently and watches, smiling the same smile every time.

One day, she doesn’t show up and doesn’t call or text like she normally does. It triggers panic in you, because the last time this happened, you called Alex and embarrassed yourself. So, you try to stay calm and not think about it, but hours pass and you still haven’t heard from her. This time, you call Nia and see if Kara was at work, but she says Kara called in sick.

Without a second thought, you leave the office and tell your assistant to push back the rest of your meetings. On the way to Kara’s, you order a pizza and arrive at Kara’s apartment building, walking down the hall to her door. You knock three times and wait. There’s shuffling behind the door and it opens.

Kara’s eyes widen in surprise. “Lena! Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t see you at lunch, so I brought pizza.” Looking over Kara’s shoulder, a man sits on her couch. You recognize him from CatCo – William, you think his name is. He’s clean-shaven, handsome, and suddenly you wonder if you interrupted something. “I’m sorry, I should have called first.” You turn to leave, but Kara calls out.

“Lena, wait. I’m sorry I didn’t call, I lost track of time. Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” you reply, smiling the same way you do whenever some business partner tries to gloat about their stocks going up or how they landed a huge deal with some tiny company no one’s heard of. You look down at the pizza and hold it out. “Here, you two should share this. I see you’re busy, so I’ll just go.”

Kara takes the pizza and frowns at it and you can feel the disappointment bubbling in your throat like bile.

“Hey,” Kara says, taking your hand. “Are you sure you’re okay? William and I were just finishing up on a story. You can stay if you want.”

“No, thank you, I just came by to check on you. Have a good afternoon, Kara.” With a turn on your heel, you speed down the hallway before Kara can stop you again and don’t breathe until the elevator doors slide shut. It’s ridiculous, there’s no reason to feel this way. Kara was with a coworker, who happened to be male and attractive, and would be lucky to have Kara. You don’t own the rights to her heart, even if she owns yours.

When you get home, you contemplate opening a bottle of wine, but, again, you remember what happened the last time you got messy drunk. You don’t particularly feel like crying in the shower again, so water it is. Just as you’re about to sit town on your couch to answer some e-mails, there’s a knock on your balcony door; Kara’s looking through it and waves. The control panel blinks as it unlocks and Kara steps inside, looking a little sheepish.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi.”

“So, do you want to tell me what that was all about back there?” She walks forward, sitting in the armchair, making sure she’s giving you enough space.

“I told you, I was just checking on you since you didn’t come for lunch and weren’t answering your phone. Again. Look, if this friendship or whatever is going to work, I’m going to need some consistent communication. You can’t disappear on me.”

“You did,” Kara says softly.

“What?” You hope the incredulous look you give her strikes fear in her heart.

“You disappeared on me. You left me.”

“I _told_ you I was leaving. I said I needed space to figure things out, needed to figure out if I could do this by myself.”

“But _why_? Why did you need to be alone? I thought we were doing okay. Things felt normal.”

“Normal for you, maybe.” You take a deep breath and rub your forehead. A migraine is trying to inch its way to the surface and you briefly wonder if it’s a withdrawal headache, even though you had wine the night before.

“I don’t understand. What am I doing wrong? Tell me how to fix this, how to fix us.”

“That’s the thing, Kara,” you say sternly, eyes hardened at they stare straight ahead. “There is no ‘us.’ That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

Kara continues giving you a confused look, one not unlike the one she had on her face before you confronted her about already knowing that Kara and Supergirl were one and the same. You’ve already started, no use backing out now.

You sit on the couch and grip your knees. “Do you remember what I told you when James and I broke up?”

Kara nods. “Yeah, that you two brought out the worst in each other and you thought you were only going through the motions, because he showed interest and you thought you were supposed to want to date him, had no reason not to.”

“That’s right, but it wasn’t completely true. While we did bring out the worst in each other, didn’t trust the other, I was with him, because it was better than being alone. It was better than constantly wanting someone who didn’t want me back.”

The crinkle between Kara’s forehead deepens and her mouth opens and shuts a couple times. “You mean—”

“I mean you, Kara. _God_. I’m such an idiot. At first, I thought all of this was about forgiveness, but if I’m being honest with myself, I forgave you a long time ago. This was more me trying to figure out why I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought spending more time with you would make you change your mind or it would show some great insight as to why I wasn’t worthy of Supergirl, let alone Kara Danvers.”

“I never knew,” Kara say in a hushed voice.

“And, of course, my life is a total cliché and I fall for my best friend while being completely emotionally detached and overreact when I find out I’ve been lied to about something,” you scoff. “Like a fucking child. I’m just—I’m just so tired of hurting all the time. I just wanted it all to stop. Being around you _hurts_.” You swipe away at an errant tear, frustrated that you couldn’t keep it together. Kara drops down to her knees in front of you and takes your hands in hers.

“I’m so sorry, Lena. I didn’t know how much I was hurting you. If I had, I…”

“You’d what? Let me down gently?”

Kara cups your cheeks and you feel the pads of her thumbs slide across them. “No, I would have told you how I felt sooner. One of the reasons why I didn’t want to tell you I was Supergirl was because I couldn’t lose you. If I did, you’d be taking my heart with you.”

“Don’t lie to me, not about this,” you say, clenching your jaw and feeling the tension in your fists. 

“I’m not,” replies Kara. “I won’t lie to you again.”

You relax your fists and your head sags into Kara’s shoulder as she wraps her arms around you, holding on tight. There’s too much information to process, too many what ifs. If you’d told each other sooner, maybe the past eight months wouldn’t have happened. Maybe you’d be happy now, but after everything, you feel broken, like even if you could allow yourself this one thing, it wouldn’t be enough. Your heart has been walled up for too long. What if you can’t love Kara the way she deserves? What if she gets hurt again?

Kara’s hand runs through your hair and scratches at your scalp. She turns her head towards yours and presses her lips against your hairline, but it doesn’t feel right. Why aren’t you happy knowing she feels something for you? This is what you wanted, but all you want to do it tell her to leave.

“Hey,” she says, “nothing has to happen right now, or-or ever. If too much has happened and we can only be friends, that’s okay. I just want you to be happy.” She smiles softly and a wave of immense guilt comes in like a tsunami, repeating the same thing in your head.

_She deserves better. She deserves better. She deserves better._

Your eyes dart to the door, but then you remember you’re not at Kara’s apartment. There’s nowhere to run. Kara picks up on your elevated heart rate and pulls back, looking concerned.

“Lena?”

“I-I can’t,” you hiccup. Breaths come too fast and you can’t catch up to them, your vision starts to blur and Kara holds your face in her hands.

“Lena, look at me.” Blue eyes search for yours, but they’re pinched shut. “Okay, can you hear me?” You nod. “Okay, good, concentrate on my voice. Can you breathe in slowly for me? As much air as you can take in.” Breathing in through your nose, you do what you’re told and it smells like Kara – her shampoo, a faint smell of her perfume, just _her_. You count to ten before letting the air back out and you blink your eyes open before taking one more breath in. Kara’s gaze is intense and full of something you never thought you’d see in a person. It’s concern and kindness and love all wrapped into one and you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with it.

Looks like that should be reserved for people who deserve them, who would return them, not someone like you.

Kara watches you and frowns. “Maybe we’re moving too fast. We haven’t completed Phase Four yet. Do you want me to leave?”

You really don’t, but there isn’t much that can be done in the state you’re in, so you nod. Kara smiles sadly, but she nods back in understanding and stands up, making her way back to the balcony.

You’re pushing her away again, letting her leave, and she keeps allowing you to. That’s the aggravating thing, Kara’s not fighting. She’s giving up, allowing you the space you don’t actually want. It’s probably giving her whiplash to have to deal with someone so hot and cold, someone who can’t make up their mind. Why is she still here?

She won’t be in a minute. The door to the balcony opens and Kara steps onto it. She takes one more look back at you and your chest _burns_. You make up your mind then and there not to let her leave again. If she won’t fight, you’ll force her to.

“God, you’re such an idiot,” you growl as you walk up to her and pull her face to yours, kissing her, and it’s a good thing she’s an alien, otherwise both of you probably would have toppled over the balcony with the force thrown at her. Her lips are so soft, timid, and they’re everything you’ve ever dreamed of. She stands frozen for a second before melting into you, wrapping her arms around your body and pulling you closer. Kryptonians are warm, their core body temperatures run a lot hotter than humans and the heat is radiating off her. She chases your lips, brushing her tongue against them and making your entire body shudder. Eventually, you both break apart to catch your breath and she holds your face in her hands, resting her forehead against yours.

“I love you, Lena,” she says, and hearing it out loud and not just in your dreams feels like a revelation. The clouds part and the sun shines through. Kara is that sun. She’s _your_ sun. In that moment, something inside of you blooms and you don’t feel like you have to hide anymore. The vines and walls that snaked around your heart to protect it are no longer needed. Kara, somehow, was able to cut right through them, again and again. That’s why she was still here, because she needed to free your heart from the prison you put it in.

The words sit on the tip of your tongue. You’ve never said them to anyone else before – not Jack, not your parents, not Lex. Your mother always told you that love would be your downfall, but she was wrong. Love is the only thing keeping you stitched together. Kara watches patiently, not expecting to hear it back - hopeful, maybe, but not expecting it.

“I, uh,” you begin saying, but your throat closes up and your tongue feels thick. Kara smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s okay, we can work up to it,” she says.

With a sigh, you grab her by the shoulder strap of her cape and drag her back inside. She hits something on the emblem of the suit that makes it disappear and she’s back in her Kara Danvers clothes. This is familiar, it’s comfortable. You recognize this Kara, you _know_ this Kara. She gives you about a mile of space and puts her hands in her pockets, shuffling her feet like a boy from _Happy Days_ , and you hate how endearing it is. Feeling like this wasn’t in the five-year plan, but here’s Kara, standing there, acting like you’ve never done a single wrong thing in your life, but you have. And she loves you anyway.

Maybe you can do this, maybe you do have the capacity to love someone as much as they love you. Will Kara stick around while you try to figure it out? History shows that she will, but what if she hits her breaking point? What if she really leaves next time?

“I need a drink,” you say as you rush into the kitchen and pull out a half-empty bottle. You don’t even look to see what it is, just pour it right into a glass that isn’t the right shape, swallowing it down. Kara walks up to the breakfast bar and mindlessly rubs her hands on the counter top before taking a seat. She folds her hands in front of her and keeps staring at you.

“Look, Lena, I know you aren’t used to this. You aren’t used to people fighting for you or sticking around, even when things are hard. Someone usually always leaves, right? But I’m not going to. I almost died and I’m still here. So, however much time you need, however long it takes, I’ll be here waiting.”

How does she do that? How does she always know what you’re thinking and then says something to make it all better? Kara slides a hand across the counter, reaching out for yours, and you stare at it like it’s a snake or a hot coal. She patiently waits until you get over your fear of physical touch and your hands join together. Her hand is warm, unsurprisingly, but it’s soft. You’d think that someone who’s had so many run-ins with other aliens and bad people, someone who’s essentially had to save the world, would have rougher skin, callouses, anything. Even Kryptonians can’t be immune to dry skin.

Your breathing slows as you watch her thumb brush across your knuckles and it calms you, releases the tension in your jaw and shoulders. But what that does is make you realize how tired you are. Having feelings is _exhausting_. You take your hand back after squeezing Kara’s once more and flatten your palms down your thighs.

“I’m kind of tired,” you say, feeling a pang of guilt, mostly because the two of you haven’t hashed anything out and still have so much to discuss.

“Oh, okay, sure,” Kara replies, standing up. She’s about to put push the hidden button for her suit again when you gently touch her hand to stop her.

“Do you want to stay?”

Kara grins and nods. “Sure. Is my blanket in the closet?”

You swallow thickly and wonder if you have the nerve to ask her to sleep somewhere other than the couch, because you don’t want to be alone, but you’re also not ready for anything physical. Kara would understand, of course, but you don’t want to be a source of disappointment. That’s what your entire life has been.

A heavy hand squeezes your shoulder and you shake the thoughts away. Kara’s eyes bore into you once again. “Lena? Blanket?”

“Oh, right,” you nod and still don’t move. Might as well just do it, jump all the way into the deep end. You have nothing to lose. The worst that can happen is Kara says no and that painfully sweet way that she doles out rejections. “Actually, you could sleep in the bed, if you want – not to do anything, but I just thought it would be more comfortable and it might make me more comfortable. I don’t know.”

Kara places both hands on your shoulders. “Do you want me to?”

Your nod is barely noticeable, but it’s enough for Kara and she leads you to the bedroom. She walks over to your dresser and pulls out her spare pajamas from one of the drawers and tosses you some shorts and a t-shirt. You catch them and retreat to the bathroom to change. Looking up at the mirror, your reflection is starting to look a little more recognizable. There’s more color in your cheeks and your eyes aren’t quite as sunken, but the dark circles under them remain.

After changing, brushing your teeth, and washing your face, you walk out and Kara’s already lying in bed, underneath the covers. She’s taken her glasses off and put them on the nightstand with the lamp turned on. You climb in beside her and lie flat on your back with three feet in between you on the California king-sized bed. Kara reaches over across the vast expanse of the mattress and gently grazes your arm with her knuckles. A chill runs down your entire body and you’re rethinking the whole ‘not ready for anything physical’ thing. You turn toward her and inch your way closer, she does the same until your knees are touching. She’s waiting for you to make a move first, not wanting to pressure you. Her eyes still glow brightly, even though there’s only a dull light coming from the lamp. You try to even your breaths out, but your heart isn’t cooperating as it thrums through your chest.

“You’re really pretty,” Kara says, breaking the silence. “I remember seeing you at L-Corp when I was there with Clark and my knees nearly buckled when I first saw you behind your desk. You scoff and laugh it off, thinking Kara’s just throwing out random compliments, but she continues. “It was really different seeing you at your job and not falling to your death in a helicopter,” she chuckles.

“You’ve saved my life a lot,” you say quietly, going through every time Supergirl has come to your rescue.

“Yeah, but you saved me, too, and I don’t just mean in the literal sense. You reminded me that humanity was worth saving, that the reason I do any of this is for people like you. Earth is my home and the people on it are my family. I’ve lost _so much_ and I—just the thought of losing you scared me to death. It would be on par with losing my parents. You’re that important to me.” She wipes away a tear and you bring a thumb up to her cheek and wipe away the rest. Kara brings her hand up and wipes your cheek, too, and that’s when you realize you’re also crying. Being called Kara’s family, after everything you’ve said to her, after everything you’ve done, flipped a switch in you. You always knew you loved Kara, but now you realize you’re _in love_ with Kara. She’s who you want to fall asleep next to and see when you first wake up in the morning. Everything you experience, you want to share with her.

You kiss her, letting your love pour into her, hoping she understands what you’re trying to convey. Your lips move together in unison, molding together, and you tug on her shirt to bring her closer. She moves her leg to slot in between yours and rolls you over onto your back. Her mouth travels to your jaw and to your neck, where you know you have a freckle, and she sucks gently, making your whole body shiver. Hands move over skin and tug at hair, moans are exchanged whenever a tongue or teeth are felt.

Kara is giving herself to you and you want to take it all, want to tuck it away into your chest cavity where it’ll keep your heart nice and warm. You want to give her everything, too, because she deserves it. She deserves to be loved fully and completely, to have that all-encompassing devotion that’s written in storybooks and seen in movies. As unrealistic as it is, it’s still something you know Kara believes in. She believes in forever and always, ‘til death do you part. That’s what you vow to give her, even if you’re uncertain if you’re capable. You’re going to try, because you owe it to Kara. She stuck around when anyone else would have left.

Kara lifts herself up and looks down at you. “Are you okay? Do you want to slow down?”

“No, I’m okay,” you reply.

“Are you sure?” She shifts again and leans her head on her arm. “We don’t need to do anything. I’m perfectly okay with just sleeping.”

You cradle her cheeks, lifting your head up to kiss her and ease her nerves. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Okay,” Kara says as a grin spreads across her face. “I’ve dreamed about this, you know. Wait, not in, like, a dirty way. Only in very respectable ways. I just mean I’ve wanted to be with you for so long and now I am and I don’t want to mess up.”

“Believe me, you won’t be the one to mess anything up.”

Kara kisses your cheek. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t end this before it even starts. I just got you.”

She’s looking at you with so much love already and you want to turn your head away, but Kara’s gaze holds you there and you feel those words from before bubbling up again and they’re about to flood out of your mouth like lava. You think you’re ready for it this time. Kara needs to know. Taking a sobering breath, you brush a few strands of hair out of Kara’s face and leave your palm resting against her cheek.

“I,” you start to say, swallowing down your fear, “I love you.”

The smile that forms across Kara’s face is blinding and she peppers kisses on every inch of your face until you squeal and cover it with your arms.

“Tell me again,” Kara says, pulling an arm down to uncover an eye.

“I love you.” It comes out as a mumble, because your other arm is still covering the lower half of your face.

“I love you, too,” replies Kara. “More than anything.”

“More than potstickers?” you ask with a cheeky grin and a raised eyebrow.

“Well, okay, almost anything,” Kara laughs and kisses your nose. Her laughter is contagious and you can’t help but chuckle a little. It’s funny to think that, after all you’ve been through in your life, after everything Lillian and Lex have done, after everything _you’ve_ done, you’re still here with someone who loves you as much as Kara does. It makes you feel guilty, because you don’t think you should be allowed this happiness, but perhaps it’s time you allowed yourself to be, just this once. Maybe it’s time to open yourself up and allow Kara to come in and flourish, plant seeds of hope and let you believe you’re worthy of love, for once. Not everything has to be calculated and measured, and you can let people help you once in a while. You don’t have to do everything alone, even though that’s what you’ve been taught all your life.

A Super and a Luthor, that’s what the media keeps calling the two of you whenever they see you together, but you’re more than your names. You’re just two people who found a partnership, two people bouncing around through life until you ran into each other and set forth a chain reaction of events that led you to this exact point, where Kara loves you, even with all of your shortcomings and past behavior, and you love her, even though your family was built to destroy her.

If Kara’s taught you anything, it’s that you’re not your family. You don’t have to follow the same path they did and regardless of what they think, love doesn’t need to be tough; having friends isn’t a detriment. Kara has shown you that forgiveness isn’t weakness. It’s actually strength - the strength to overcome the pain you’ve been dealt and the ability to release the anger and resentment you feel after being hurt. That’s what you’ve accomplished without succumbing to the weight of your family’s name or your predetermined future.

Kara falls asleep beside you and you can’t help but touch her. You want to remind yourself that she’s real and not a specter or a dream, so you keep one hand on her arm or her chest and you feel her breathing, absorb her warmth. For the first time in your life, you feel safe and like you could genuinely be happy. You can’t remember the last time you felt like that, or if you ever have.

Your lunch dates with Kara continue, usually inside of your office, but every once in a while, you’ll venture outside and look for new places to go together. She sleeps over almost every night and you start going to game nights regularly, always partnered with Kara. During one of the game nights, you’re extra on edge, because you’re hosting and it’s also the night you’ve decided to tell everyone that you and Kara have been seeing each other for the past two months. By the time everyone is all liquored up, you feel confident enough to break the news, but when you do, everyone (especially Nia) stares blankly at you and tells you they already know. Apparently, someone sleeping in your bed every night and having their own drawer of clothes isn’t exactly discreet. No one treats you any differently – in fact, they’re a little more relaxed, because they no longer have to hide the fact that they already knew. Even Alex has warmed up to you again after seeing how happy Kara’s been and she doesn’t fully trust you yet, but at least she’s no longer giving you looks that feel like Kryptonian eye beams.

At the end of the night, you watch everyone winding down and talking, laughing about something that Brainy said, and Kara walks over to join you. She wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close.

“We’ve got a pretty good family here,” she comments, kissing the side of your head.

“We do,” you reply, and look up at Kara, who’s laughing at Nia sticking an ice cube down Alex’s shirt while Kelly records the entire thing. “Thank you.”

Kara switches her attention back to you. “For what?”

“For not giving up on me, for loving me.”

Kara smiles. “You don’t have to thank me for that, it comes naturally. Thank _you_ for letting me.”

It’s going to take a long time of unlearning behaviors and relearning how to trust, but you think that you’ll get there eventually. This is your family, the people who will fight for you and always be in your corner. You’re stronger together and now you finally understand what that means.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: bearpantaloons  
> Twitter: tapdancinghippo


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